


A Fire in Your Skull

by Chandon



Series: Dreams of Rosin rose and Lithium [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Anxiety Disorder, Cecil Is Not Described, Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychosis, Slow Build, Suicide Attempt, carlos centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:28:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chandon/pseuds/Chandon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>{ON HIATUS}</p><p>Carlos Delgado, a doctoral student, suffers a bit of a breakdown after one of his science write ups goes awry, and for his own safety checks himself into the Night Vale Inpatient Psychiatric Center. As he struggles to regain his stability, he begins to socialize with the other patients. Including a rather strange man who insists he is broadcasting a very strange radio show to the whole world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> The portrayal of mental illness and psychiatric care facilities is based solely around my own personal experience and from what I have heard from the mental health community. Mental health and treatment are unique to each person so please don’t take any information written here as fact. If I get any facts, or grammar or spelling wrong here, please, feel free to bring it to my attention!
> 
> Warning! This entire fic has a trigger warning for suicidal thoughts and actions. In later chapters will contain mentions of eating disorders and self injury. Please be cautious when reading if you are triggered by any of the above! 
> 
> This is my first fic! Be gentle! I wrote this without a beta so...there may be issues!

Carlos swore that his bones were vibrating in his skin his heart was beating so fast. He could feel the clocks ticking, the sound waves reverberating in to his ears and off of his skin and seeping into his veins. It hurt almost as much as his head. It was a dreadful stinging pain in his head and chest that screamed at him to just work, to FINISH, or he would be a failure.

The word failure lit up in bright neon lights just behind his eyes, and his body was shocked with so much dread and self hatred that he almost screamed. Almost.

‘ ** _Just FINISH you little shit_** ,’ the dark little voice in his head screamed at him. He shuddered, and stared at the screen, begging his mind to just give him SOMETHING.

He had been up for at least two days straight and hadn’t seen actual sunlight in about five. He must have eaten at some point but he didn’t know what or when or if he had even managed to keep it down. It was troubling to think about. However, he had downed enough coffee in the last twenty four hours that he figured the milk and sugar alone probably counted as a meal. Though, despite all the caffeinated rocked fuel he had ingested, he still struggled to focus.

His head spun as he stared at the screen of his laptop, squinting like he was staring into the face of the sun. He hissed as he slid his hands beneath his glasses and massaged his weary eyes in an attempt to soothe their achiness. It wasn’t helping, but nothing was right now. Nothing could help while he still had work. He knew that the only thing that would ease this fire in his brain was to finish this paper so he could move onto the next. Finishing would be his relief, his reward. IF he finished that was. His heart began to race faster as anxiety swelled up in his chest cavity.

His mind began to buzz again, with, of course, all of the wrong thoughts and worries. He needed to focus on the report, but his brain would not have it. What if he couldn’t finish the report by morning? How far behind would that make him? What if he didn’t finish? He couldn’t do this. It wasn’t working. But he had to write this report. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn-

‘ ** _Failure_** ,’ came a hiss from the back of his mind. Carlos gritted his teeth.

“Damn it, just breathe,” he told himself, “Breathe in. Breathe out.”

“Oxygen,” inhale.

“CO2,” exhale.

The heart slowed its pace ever so slightly. Carlos allowed himself to sigh and close his burning eyes for one blissful second. He looked back at the screen. It said six thirty-two on the tiny box at the right corner of the screen. The anxiety peaked once again. Was it AM or PM? AM or PM?

He had been having trouble remembering exactly which one meant which for a day or so now. On the rare occasion he left the apartment for the library or the lab, it was always dark out. Time always felt like it was speeding up or slowing down. He wasn’t sure which, and it didn’t matter too much, he just needed it to slide in his favor so he could finish his work. Still, time didn’t feel real, and it was inebriating beyond belief. With his head so full and mind moving so fast, so very, very fast, that he had to track it. He couldn’t afford to let time get away from him, or he might lose where he was and miss something important. It was so important, that he had started to set alarms everywhere.

Carlos wasn’t sure when he had begun doing it, but he set each alarm in the house religiously. He would set the alarms on his phone, on his clock, on his laptop, on all of his roommate’s electronic devices, and, hell, even on the microwave in the apartment. He was worried, so very, very worried that he might miss his exam, or miss a deadline. He had worked so hard through undergrad and the last four years of graduate school, that missing a class or a test would be a waste of his time, potential, and, ultimately, his short life. He couldn’t miss anything, he couldn’t afford to. And if time was slowing down or speeding up, he needed to make sure that he was at least being alerted to when it was. So he set alarms, and put notes on the alarms about when to set the next ones and the next ones. He would not forget. He would not miss anything important.

He stared at the clock next to him, and then the one on his computer, then back again. He stared long enough to see the bold green neon letters next to the hour click over from thirty two to thirty three. PM it said. The hour was seven. The PM was important, he knew. He knew what that meant, he had set the clocks. He had to know what that meant. What did it mean again?

There was a whispering behind him. For a moment, the panic rose again. Was it an alarm? No, no it was just someone talking. He recognized the voices of his roommates and he willed his heart to relax itself. He let out a shaky sigh and fought with his vision to focus on the blinding neon screen that was his laptop.

‘ ** _Focus you little shit_** ,’ his mind hissed as he tried very, very hard to actually take in the words on the monitor.

He heard whispers from behind him again, and he clenched his teeth in annoyance.

 His roommates had been avoiding his room for the entire week of midterm exams, but now he could hear them talking and pacing behind him. Were they talking to him? He didn’t really know, he didn’t really care either. He just needed to finish this and get his heart slowed down. If only he could figure out WHERE in the report he had last left off, he could actually figure out how to actually finish writing it.

Then, there was a knock on his door that nearly made him piss himself. The noise cracked through the air and hit his eardrums with a sensation that felt vaguely like getting hit in the back of the head with a tin baseball bat. His hands instinctually flew to his ears as he whipped his head around to see his two roommates staring at him from the doorway.

“Carlos,” Anthony said, softer than Carlos had ever heard him speak.

“What do you want,” Carlos said, his voice coming out cracked and sounding nothing like he recognized, “I’m busy”

“Yea, we know,” Dan said, “Were just starting to get a little concerned…”

“Why?” Carlos asked, but really hoped that they would just leave him be.

“Well…first off, you’ve set every alarm in the entire apartment, and you haven’t slept in a week,” Antony said with a huff.

“Only thirty seven hours and twenty minutes actually,” Carlos said and turned back to his computer shakily. He tried to steer his mind back to his task as he resumed his typing. He did this partly to finish his work but, mostly, to try and dissuade his roommates from continuing this conversation.

“Uhuh…and how long did you sleep?” Dan asked.

“An hour and thirty minutes” Carlos elaborated.

“Yea, you need to sleep. You’re gonna kill yourself man,” Dan said, clearly frustrated with him.

 “I will, in a few hours. I have a test at three, I can’t get distracted. If I get this done now I’ll have time to study at least another five and a half hours to study,” Carlos said, grinning as he finally managed to finish the last paragraph of his paper. Now he just had to write the conclusion. He chuckled and looked over at his roommates who were looking at him, concern etched into their faces.

“At three you said? Three in the afternoon” Anthony asked.

“Yes, three, I’m sure of it,” Carlos said.

“Do you know what day it’s being held on?” Anthony continued.

“The eleventh, today,” Carlos scoffed, “I’m not stupid.”

Anthony and Dan looked at each other and back at him again. A brick formed in Carlos’ chest. Something was wrong.

“Don’t freak out,” Dan said.

Carlos began to freak out.

“Why not!? What, what’s wrong?” Carlos said, starting to rise from his chair for the first time in many hours. His joints popped from the strain of inactivity.

“No, DON’T freak out!” Dan continued.

“Ok tell me WHY!?” Carlos said, his voice rising into a yell.

“So…the test is today, at 3pm and its 7:35pm now…” Dan said.

Carlos stared at him blankly.

“You missed it,” Anthony said, “By a lot actually…”

“I missed it,” Carlos repeated blankly, his voice dead and his eyes unfocused. Then, for a long while, the world went black and was replaced with screaming and hands and a pain in his head and chest so heavy he could have sworn he was being crushed to death.

“How could I miss it?” He said, his head starting to spin, “I thought it was PM not AM. How do I not know what that means?”

“Don’t freak out,” Dan repeated clearly unsure how to handle the situation. Anthony took a few steps forward, and hovered his hand above Carlos’ shoulder tentatively, unsure whether or not human touch would help or hurt him.

Anthony sighed, “It’s understandable, you are exhausted. You haven’t slept in-“

“I know what AM means!” Carlos cried, “HOW DID I NOT NOTICE!? How do I not know that! Ive been counting! Ive been watching and counting and keeping tabs on the time! How! How did I miss it!!?” Carlos sputtered. He couldn’t breathe.

A ringing started going off in his head as the world started to spin and his heart thudded rapidly and deafeningly into his ears. Dan was saying something, but he couldn’t hear it over the madness that was going on in his skull. His vision blurred. He wasn’t sure if he was about to faint or if he was about to cry, but he saw Anthony draw nearer

He screamed at his roommates, he wasn’t sure that there were any words in it, but the message was clear. He wanted them and everything else in the world out, as far away as possible. More so, he wanted everything to just STOP.

If there was a response, he didn’t hear it over the biological cacophony in his brain. He waited, impatiently, for them to leave his already crowded space. Through the fog in his eyes, that were surely now the result of tears, he saw them balk before coming towards him again.

Something broke then.

There was a great crashing all around him, a pain in his limbs as they smashed against wall and furniture, perhaps a face, and a screeching howl that may or may not have been coming from him. It hurt, but he wanted to make the scorching, rotting sting inside of him go away more than anything. It was an itching, shameful kind of pain. He wanted to scratch at it, or pull it out like a sore tooth, but it was illogical and he didn’t know how to reach the spot where the pain was without maiming himself. Though, that was starting to feel like an option.

This whirlwind of fists and noise and pain may have gone on a bit longer, but he wasn’t sure. When he allowed himself to be more aware of his surroundings, he saw that he had curled up against the very edge of the wall where it met his bed and the window, his arms wrapped around his knees protectively. There was a buzzing in his ears, and he had bruises and blood, probably his, on his hands and shirt. He shuddered and let his head clunk painfully against the back of the wall. He let out a sigh. He could not deny that he felt ever so slightly more comfortable with the cool pressure of the wall and the frame of the bed against his back. Somehow, the pressure was comforting.

He swallowed and looked briefly around the room. It wasn’t nearly as trashed as his outburst had made it seem. The desk chair was flipped, and there was a divot in his wall that would surely void the housing contract, but no blood like something in his mind had led him to believe would be there. But, he saw, almost immediately, that his laptop was broken, snapped in two at the hinges. Now it was nothing more than a completely useless machine. He didn’t even know if he had saved his progress on his files. It dawned on him a moment later that he had not. There was almost certainly no way to retrieve it now. He would virtually have to start all over again.

Carlos didn’t even try to hold back the sobs that came forth as he realized that he had no chance of making this better now. He cried, and curled into a ball, leaning as hard as he could into the cool solid mass of the wall and bed frame. Childishly, he felt like he could will himself into non existence if he could just somehow merge with the wall, or perhaps swallowed into a deep, void filled pit in the earth.

A soft rapping came at the door and Carlos lifted his head slowly, moving his sand paper filled eyes to the doorway. Anthony was standing there, flanked by two taller men in uniform.

“You called the police?” Carlos asked accusingly, his voice rougher than he had expected. Anthony didn’t answer though, but instead let the officers step through the threshold. Carlos stiffened and straightened himself as they approached and began to sit up.

“Your roommates told us that you weren’t feeling so well,” said the taller officer sporting a bushy mustache.

“That’s one way of putting it,” He said, just barely above a whisper.

“They were afraid that you might hurt yourself,” The officer continued. Carlos looked around the room at all the shattered objects he had wreaked havoc on.

“They were probably right to…” Carlos said to himself.

“Do you think you might hurt yourself?” The officer asked.

“I might hurt the wall some,” He muttered again, and tapped his fist on the wall and sniffed at the snot forming in his sinuses. There was a shuffleing of eyes around the room with him, and Carlos could almost feel the second that they had landed back on him. With a shudder, he looked back up at the officer. There was concern there, but he knew where this was going.

“What are you going to do?” Carlos asked nervously.

“We aren’t going to do anything,” The tall officer, the one without a mustache, said, “We just think that, maybe, you might need to see someone”

Carlos eyed them both.

“I’m not going to go to the hospital,” He said, bowing his head. Not wanting them to look at him anymore. Panic was starting to rise into his chest. That’s why they were here, they were going to take him away. In front of his roommates. Watching him. ‘ ** _Knowing how much of a failure you are_** ’

The officers seemed to sense his discomfort and shared a brief glance with each other.

“Why don’t we just drive you over? Just to get you checked out,” The officer said, sounding as if he was trying very, very hard to sound supportive. He was annoyed with him though. Carlos could tell.

“No, I can’t. You don’t understand. I CANT give up any time on this, if it’s going to get done, I need to get it done NOW. My computer is broken and I only have half of it saved on my flashdrive! If I don’t get this done now it won’t GET done. And then-then-then,” he swallowed to stop the stuttering, “All kinds of horrible things will happen. I can’t let myself waste any more time,” Carlos said, barely taking a breath in between his words.

“Listen, we can do this real quick, ok? Well drive you, they’ll give you a check up, maybe give you some medication and then you can come right back. Alright? It won’t take any time at all,” The officer said.

Carlos blinks back tears and tries to hiccup back a sob. He averts his eyes from the officer and instead focuses on a spot on the wall.

“Do I have a choice?” He asks.

“Right now you do,” The officer sighs.

“And later?”

“It depends,” the man says, his voice betraying the meaning behind his words. Carlos hung his head between his knees and clenched the hair on the sides of his head. He sniffled and let out a little chuckle. He didn’t have a choice. It was over.

“Ok,” He said, his hands shaking as he let go of his head and bobbed his head up to look at the two men in front of him, “Just let me get my things”

“No, you stay here,” The taller officer said, “What do you need?”

Carlos frowned, “Just my wallet and some bathroom supplies. I know where it all is. I can get it…I need to pee anyway”

Carlos stood up then and the officer moved to stop him from getting any further.

“Sit down,” The mustachioed officer insisted, “We need to go-“

“If you don’t let me go to the bathroom here, I can’t guarantee that I won’t in your car…” Carlos said, staring at the taller man very seriously. The two officers exchanged a look between them. The taller man without a mustache shrugged.

“Alright,” Said the other officer, “I’ll come with you.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Carlos said sheepishly.

“Just go,” He said, sounding very impatient. Carlos bit his lip and turned twitchily towards the bathroom. He felt like the entire apartment was holding his breath as he crossed the all of five feet from the common area to the mouth of the bathroom. He bit his lip again, tasting blood, as he passed through the threshold and turned on the light. The officer was at his heels, waiting impatiently for him to do his business.

Carlos eyed the policeman. The policeman hadn’t crossed the doorway. He hadn’t put his hand on the door.

An impulse bloomed into Carlos’ aching head and, before he had time to consider the repercussions of his actions, his hand shot to the door and slammed it shut. The officer started shouting and fighting to push the door open. There was a second where Carlos thought he might overpower his grip on the door, but after a moment the lock clicked into place and the shouting on the other side was replaced by loud banging.

Carlos let out a shaking breath and sat down on the seat of the toilet, not going to the bathroom at all. Just sitting. He breathed in and breathed out, trying to quiet his head and the deafening sound of yelling and banging and the ticking of clocks behind his eyes. Holding his breath, his eyes locked on a large bottle of aspirin sitting, staring at him, on the edge of the sink. He shuddered and took the bottle into his hand. He didn’t take the cap off the bottle, he didn’t even try.  All he could do was stare at the drugs in his hand absently. He couldn’t even see the label through the stubborn tears in his eyes, that were too thick to see through but refused to fall.

The banging continued outside. He rolled the unopened bottle in his hands.

“Just give me a minute!” Carlos yelled and buried his head between his knees. Clutching his coiled fists to his head, one still holding the unopened bottle, he gritted his teeth and tried to shut off his racing brain so he could just figure out what to DO. God damn it what WAS he doing? Hiding in the bathroom like a child wasn’t solving anything. _‘ **Baby.’**_ But going out there wouldn’t either. He couldn’t go back and finish anything. He had failed, he had missed his exam. It didn’t matter that he had almost finished his paper. Everything, EVERYTHING was ruined because he had let time slip away. **_‘Lazy.’_** Now he would miss everything. He would be behind on everything, because he had wasted time. He had wasted time and now it was going to way waste to his life because he wasn’t a good scientist, he wasn’t a good HUMAN. This mistake would lead to infinitely more mistakes. It didn’t matter what he did anymore. He had failed.  **_‘Failure._** ” He had FAILED. ‘ ** _FUCKING FALIURE!’_** He couldn’t go back. He could say goodbye to his doctorate. His undergrad meant nothing, not when he had failed this bad. No, nothing mattered there. He couldn’t go out there. He couldn’t make any more mistakes.

He sniffled at the mucus that had started to join the tears in running down his face as he clutched his head even tighter. What did he have left? He was a waste now. Just another human on the planet, sitting there, existing. He would eat food that others could have eaten and breathe air that others could have breathed. Not all resources were expendable, and he was going to use all of them by just existing. He had no purpose now, nothing to negate the fact that he was an organism that selfishly used the world around it to just keep moving. How could he just sit here and do that. How could he live with himself? What could he-

**_‘Kill yourself.’_ **

Carlos choked back a scream as the wood of the bathroom door splintered and he toppled back against the wall. He had no time to steady himself before two sets of Iron gripped hands pulled him from the floor, out of his apartment, and into the blackness of the cool desert night.

 

 

 

 


	2. Held on Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter, but I wanted to put something out!  
> More Carlos centric chapter with not much happening.  
> I PROMISE that there will be more characters you know in the next chapter.  
> I should get it out by tonight or tomorrow!

Carlos ran a hand over his face and pulled on the skin around his eyes, stretching it in some hope to relieve the burning sensation they were producing. He felt disgusting. The skin around his eyes had the intensely annoying sticky, raw, and cracked feeling that comes so often after crying. And he felt distinctly like a ringed out sponge.

The room he was in was far too bright for his tired brain to handle. It was that sickly pale tan color that hospitals often use when they are trying not to look like a hospital but don’t go so far as to settle on an actual color. It may as well have been white, in Carlos’ opinion, what with the blinding overhead light reflecting off of it. It was really burning his already exhausted eyes. It was the least comfortable room he had ever been in.  

There was no door to the room, and he could see the hustle and bustle of the emergency room playing out before his eyes just outside of the threshold. He thought, momentarily, that this was a little strange, seeing as he could essentially walk out at any time. That wasn’t possible though, of course, the nurses had made sure of that. His arms were bound to the sides of the hospital bed by padded plastic straps. They weren’t uncomfortable in and of themselves, but he had virtually no range of motion and he felt very exposed and vulnerable in them.

There was also an officer in the room, a different one from the men that had brought him here, slumped in the most uncomfortable looking plastic chair that Carlos had ever seen. Carlos was very aware of his gaze and avoided eye contact like the plague. The officer didn’t make any attempt to engage him and seemed to be paying as little attention to him as possible. At least, as little attention a person can give when they are trying to make sure that you aren’t going to off yourself. Thankfully, that did not require conversation. Carlos had never been so thankful for anything in his life.

He rubbed his eyes a bit, the burning of the raw flesh of his eyelids distancing himself from the maddening situation he had put himself in. Obviously, he had ruined everything. There was nothing he could do now to save his academic career, at least not this semester, not with his work so far behind now. He had truly failed. And, worse yet, had made a spectacle in front of his roommates. They would probably tell everyone how he had acted like a child having a temper tantrum, locking himself in the bathroom like an idiot and throwing things around his room.

“Idiot,” He cursed to himself. The officer raised his eyes to him quizzically, but again, politely declined to comment on his outburst. Carlos turned his head away shamefully at his outburst. He turned his attention to the door and the ER just outside of it. He tried to figure out what each nurse and patient rolling by was up to, but his mind was too weary to make any conclusions. It was a distraction though, which was what he needed.

His view was cut then as a large round woman heaved herself through the doorway. Carlos flinched and immediately averted his gaze.

“Mr. Delgado?” She asked, picking up a chart.

“Yes,” He said, his voice cracking with nervousness.

“My name is Suzanne Thurgood, I’m a nurse practitioner here at the hospital,” Nurse Thurgood said with a tired, yet genuine smile, “Would you mind if I asked you some questions?”

“Sure,” He said.

“Alright, So just some general stuf, date of birth, insurance, medical history and all that,” She said, pulling over a rolling bench from the corner and sitting her squat body on top of it. “Also, any contacts we can call in case of an emergency.”

“I don’t really want you calling anyone about this honestly,” Carlos said shamefully.

“Well, I have to put at least one person down,” She said, clicking her pen as if to seal her point.

“Um…just my sister, Alejandra then. But only because you need it. I don’t really want anyone knowing about this,” He said with a sigh.

“I’m sure she would want to know what’s going on in your life. Especially now,” Nurse Thurgood said sympathetically.

“I don’t want to worry her. Not over something like this. She has enough to deal with already, telling her would just upset her,” He said, bowing his head.

“Mr. Delgado, you tried to kill yourself, that isn’t something to be taken lightly,” She said.

“I didn’t try to kill myself,” He insisted. The nurse arched an eyebrow at him.

“That is…” How could he word this so that she could understand? “I didn’t TRY to kill myself. I just locked myself in the bathroom.”

“The officers told me you had a full bottle of aspirin in your hand at the time,” The nurse continued.

“Well I did, but I wasn’t going to kill myself with that,” He said, and sighed as he looked up at the disbelieving nurse, “Look, it’s just that…well, even if I had taken all that aspirin, it probably wouldn’t have killed me. Especially not with the police there already. I wouldn’t have even tried to use that to kill myself.”

“But you would have tried to kill yourself with something else?” She asked.

“No…no its just. Listen, I would never attempt suicide. If I was ever going to kill myself I wouldn’t fail. There wouldn’t be any attempt, I’d be dead, and that would be it,” He insisted, “Do you see what I mean?”

“Yes I do,” She said as she wrote something down on her clipboard. He immediately knew he had said the wrong thing.

“And…” She began, and leaned in, making full on eye contact with him, “Are you thinking about killing yourself now?”

“No,” He said instinctively.

‘ ** _Yes_** ,’

“A little bit, I mean…I’ve been thinking about on and off…” He said, being honest now.

“Do you have a plan of what you would do?”

“Well, if I would ever do it, I wouldn’t have room for error…so, gun. Statistically it’s the most likely to work. So long as you aim for the right spot,” He explained.

“Do you have access to firearms?”

“Not right this second,”

“In general I mean,”

“Yes. I used to go camping by myself, so I have a shotgun, for protection. There’s a lot of bears where I go usually.”

“Ok…” She scribbled on her clipboard again, “Are you hearing any voices or seeing anything that isn’t there?”

“Uh…” He began.

‘ ** _Kill yourself_** ,’

“Sort of? I mean, it’s my voice, and it’s definitely coming from inside my head. I can’t seem to control it though,” He elaborated, “Does that count?”

“I’m not really qualified to tell you either way, but it sounds more like intrusive thoughts than voices,” She said calmly.

“Oh, ok,” Carlos said.

‘ ** _You’re still crazy either way_** ,’

“So, Carlos, I think you would definitely benefit from going into inpatient therapy,” Nurse Thurgood said.

“And by that you mean?...” He asked.

“By that I mean, I think you should stay at a hospital while you receive medication and therapy until you are feeling stable mentally,” She said with a tight smile.

“I don’t really want to do that,” He said, “I don’t think I’ll ever be mentally stable again, you’ll never let me out if you wait for that.”

“Very few people stay longer than two weeks, most only stay a few days,”

“Do I have a choice?”

“It’s better if you admit yourself, it means that it will be easier than if I admit you myself.”

“And are you going to do that?”

“I try to avoid it, but yes, yes I would in your case,”

Carlos held back tears. He was trapped. She was only giving him the illusion of a choice. She could have just told him that at the start. He just wanted to leave and the more he thought about staying, the more appealing the shotgun sounded. He was going to a frigging mental asylum. It was all over, It had to be.

“I wouldn’t be nervous about it,” She said gently, “It’s not like it is in the movies. The doctors are exelent, the staff are usually very nice and understanding. I’ve even been told that the food is fairly good.”

He didn’t believe her, “I’ll go…”

“Alright, good. You’ve made the right choice Mr. Delgado!” She scribbled something down on her pad of paper.

“Now,” She began, “The place where we are going to send you is not in this particular hospital, so we will have to transport you there.”

“Wait…Its not?” He said.

“No, we do have a psychiatric department here, but that is for more severe patients that are a risk to themselves and others. I think you would benefit more from going to this facility. Its partly an intensive outpatient program, so not everyone you meet there will be staying there overnight, but because we are affiliated with them, they also provide inpatient care,” She said with a smile, “Its really a good program.”

“Ok…” He said, not really sure about this in the least.

“I just have some forms for you to sighn…” She said. She handed him a stack of papers and removed the cuffs from his wrists. He rubbed them absently and took the stack gingerly.

And as he sighed the forms, he had the distinct feeling that he was signing his life away.


	3. Through the Gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos enters the hospital and meets a nurse that may, or may not, be an asshole.

After Carlos had sighed all the papers, things began to happen very quickly. He was moved from his bed into a wheelchair, which he insisted repeatedly that he did not need and wasteful to use on someone completely capable of walking, and then into a dreary hospital shuttle van. The mute police officer was with him all the while, looking more bored by the minute. Carlos envied his calm, he was beginning to panic. This was a bad idea, he was sure of it. He wondered, for a moment, if he could manage to open the window and jump out of it, whether or not he would die if he hit the road at the speed they were going. The officer shifted beside him. It was a stupid idea, he decided, and he put the thoughts to rest. Though, the terror of what was to come refused to be ignored.

He was shaking by the time the van had pulled up to their destination.

The building itself was small. It looked more like an office building than a mental institution. It was a squat little thing made of sand colored bricks that were broken up every few feet by a row of small windows facing the parking lot. In and of itself it was the most unassuming and least threatening building that he had ever seen. There was even a little garden with a few sparse desert flowers sprinkled around in the soil. The only thing that gave its ominous purpose away was the sign sitting innocently out on the front grass that read Night Vale Inpatient Psychiatric Center. Carlos shuddered.

Just the name of the place was foreboding. Night Vale. Realistically, Carlos understood that this was coincidental, the name of the town just happened to be Night Vale, and this just happened to be a mental hospital. Nothing terrifying at all about that, he thought, but he still shivered despite himself.

He thought that he would have actually felt better if it really had been a huge white building with iron gates cloaked with Ivy. At least then he would know what he was in for. The banal look of the entire place had caught him off guard and made him even more unsure of this situation than ever.

Carlos didn’t realize that he had been gawking at the building until he heard the officer clear his throat impatiently behind him. Carlos sputtered out an apology and scurried off the bus as quickly as he could, in hopes that he might make up for the lost time somehow. With his head bowed, he was led into the building by the officer.

The inside looked as unassuming as the outside, which gave Carlos the same sinking feeling as before. It was just a series of plain, dry hallways, speckled with offices every few feet or so. The same sickly cream color of the emergency room was plastered on the walls here as well. It was far quieter than the emergency room though, and the corridors were lined sporadically with some very fake looking potted plants. Carlos didn’t really see the point of having them, especially if they were fake. Still, he tried his best to focus on the little details all around him. He read the nametags on all the doors that they passed, the exact pattern of the tiled floors, and really anything else that he could use to keep him mind from thinking about anything too hard. Despite this, the silence of the place had begun to make his heart race. The only noises he could hear came from the squeaking of their shoes on the bright tiled floor, and the pounding in his ears as the blood pounded through his skull.

Soon, they had reached the end of a long series of hallways, and stood in front of a huge set of double doors. Carlos swallowed. That was where he was going. He knew it.

The officer cleared his throat again and Carlos snapped to attention. The officer nodded towards a little corner that he had overlooked while staring at the doors. To his left, there was a little window, with a petite young woman sitting pleasantly at her desk. She smiled at them politely. The officer handed her some papers and she glanced at him momentarily.

“Mr. Delgado?” She asked.

“Yes…” He said, his voice still hoarse from the night’s drama.

“Date of birth?” She asked, and he gave it to her quickly.

“Ok…Do you have any personal possessions on you?” She asked.

“Uh…just this backpack,” He said, pulling up a bag that one of his roommates had thankfully given the officers as he was being dragged away. It contained clothing, toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving supplies, his phone, and his glasses. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep the shaving supplies. He hadn’t shaved in about two weeks so he already wasn’t looking his best. Not that it really mattered.

The woman held out her hand and he gave her the bag. She briefly looked into the backpack, shuffling everything around to get a better look. Carlos clenched his hands. There was something about people touching his things that made his blood boil. He wasn’t an angry person, but it was HIS stuf.

“They already took my belt,” He said, a bit annoyed, and the woman looked up at him, “If that’s what you’re looking for.”

She shook her head, “I’m not looking for anything in particular at the moment sir, just making sure that there’s nothing hazardous in here before the other nurses can go through it,”

“Oh…Ok,” He said and bowed his head and waited for the woman to end her search. After a minute, she zipped his bag shut, and placed it somewhere out of view.

“All right, I just need you to sign this, we just have to fill out an intake form and then one of the nurses will be with you shortly,” The receptionist said cheerily. Carlos just nodded, and was about to ask what he needed to do with the form, when the officer pushed forward and began to talk to the receptionist, filling the form out himself. Carlos had no idea if that was normal.

There was a brief exchange between the officer and the receptionist, the passing of papers and hushed technical talk that was only used when you didn’t want the subject to hear. Then he heard the final, decisive scribbling of a signature, and the receptionist turned her eyes back up to him. A buzzer went off and the looming doors that he had been dreading began to open. He was preparing himself for the words. He saw, in his mind’s eye, doctors carrying syringes ready to pounce and stab him with their needles, someone getting ready to restrain him in a bed or, worse yet, a straight jacket. Carlos shuddered and fought the impulse to run, run now and damn the consequences.

None of those things, of course, happened. On the other side of the door was a tall, but unassuming looking man in a pair of the ugliest scrubs he had ever seen. The shirt was bright pink and covered with tiny pictures of Snoopy from The Peanuts and the pants were a bright, ugly green. Carlos stared at him, not yet sure what to make of him. The nurse didn’t seem deterred and flashed him a quick smile before beckoning him with a casual wave.

“Were ready for you,” The man said, and waved a clipboard as if that was supposed to mean something.

Carlos shuffled to face him tentatively before a hand on his shoulder suddenly made him jump in terror. He flipped his head around to see the police officer looming above him, and making direct eye contact with him for the first time in their hours together. There was a long awkward silence that followed and Carlos stared up at the man’s blank expression, not knowing whether or not he was in some other kind of trouble he hadn’t been told about.

 “Be safe kid,” The other man said finally. With that he patted him once more on the shoulder and gave him a tight, but genuine, smile, before walking away.  Carlos opened and closed his mouth, completely taken aback by the man’s sudden friendliness. He even looked between the nurse and the receptionist, feeling that he had missed something. But, ultimately, could find nothing that he had apparently looked over.

‘ _That was weird_ ,’ He thought as he turned back to the now opened doors. The nurse waved him over the threshold one more time before he tentatively stepped to the man’s side. The nurse gave him a quick smile as another buzz rang through the air, and the doors began to close again. There was a decisive click as the two doors slid beside each other, and the outside world was officially closed off from him.

Carlos felt like crying again.

“So,” The nurse said, snapping Carlos out of the moment, “Follow me,”

Carlos bowed his head and followed the direction that the nurse’s feet were headed. If he was going to cry, it was going to fall right on the floor. This nurse wasn’t allowed to see that. As much as he tried to ignore the other man, he could feel the nurse looking at him despite his averted gaze.

“Alright, just through here,” He said, holding a door open for his patient. Carlos shuffled through the door but stopped when he heard a sound after the tell tale click of the door. It was a lock. He turned his gaze up to a digital keypad next to the door. The nurse was swiping his card into the slot and typing a short code in.

“You lock us in here?” He asked.

“This part? Yes, I’m taking you into the exam room. You need a key card to get in, but no, we don’t lock you in. You’re on our intensive outpatient and inpatient unit. It’s not technically a closed ward, but if you leave without clearance or signing out you will be readmitted and that’s never fun,” the other man said. He didn’t say it threateningly, but Carlos felt a shiver run down his spine at the idea of what the ‘not fun’ results could possibly be. The nurse seemed to sense his distress.

“It’s nothing terrible. The biggest punishment we really enforce here is just revoking privileges. You follow the rules, follow your schedule and take your medication, you get more privileges. You don’t do those things, we take them away,” He explained with a shrug.

“Sounds like…kindergarten or something…” Carlos mumbled, and the nurse laughed.

“Well, you’re not wrong. You’re going to have a tight schedule here. You’re going to have to eat, sleep, go to therapy, and all that when you’re told to,” The nurse said.

“Ok…” Carlos said, realizing how horrible that sounded.

“Don’t sound so glum about it. Its for your benefit,” He said with a chuckle.

“If you say so,” Carlos said, still sounding decidedly glum.

“All right,” The nurse said as he stopped next to another small room. It was pretty much the most standard exam room he had ever seen. There was a scale in the back, blood pressure machine, and a menagerie of tongue dispensers, q-tips, and all other form of medical utensils.

“Do you go by Carlos?” The nurse asked in a friendly tone.

“Yes…” Carlos said dully.

“Hi, nice to meet you Carlos,” Said the nurse, holding out a hand to him, “My name is Nurse Steve Carlsberg, I’m one of the attending nurses here.”

Carlos stared at the man’s extended hand, surprised that it was even being offered to him given the circumstances. This was a mental institution after all. He didn’t expect them to trust him with contact of any kind, especially with someone whose history they didn’t know. Regardless, he accepted the handshake. Nurse Carlsberg smiled.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Carlsberg,” Carlos said politely.

“Call me Steve. You’re going to be seeing a lot of me the next few days, might as well be friendly with each other,” Steve said and offered him a chair. Carlos nodded absently and took a seat on the exam table.

“So, I’m going to go through some preliminary things. You know, ask the same questions you’ve been through a million times by now, take your vitals, that kind of stuf,” The nurse said, clearly trying to be personable. Carlos honestly didn’t want to be friendly right now and felt more distain at his tone than comfort.

 “So it says here you’re in for suicidal intent,” Steve said, eyeing him.

“Intent is maybe the wrong word,” Carlos grunted.

“What would be the right word then?”

“Uh…thoughts? Thinking badly maybe? I don’t know. Intent just sounds wrong,”

“Well, if you weren’t here, right now, would you seek out a way to kill yourself?”

Carlos shrugged.

 “Probably…” He said honestly.

“Do you have any specific plans?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” Carlos said, feeling very annoyed because he had, as Steve had pointed out, heard all of these questions before. And, he wasn’t in the mood to go through every single thought or impulse he was having.

Everything was so damnably annoying all of a sudden. He felt everything pushing in on him at every side. There were too many questions and too many new situations. He just wanted to sleep or just not exist for a while. His brain was screaming to be left alone, but he didn’t want to be left to his thoughts either. He was just very uncomfortable in general.

Steve, thankfully, seemed to catch that he was in a bad mood and got through the questions very quickly. Jotting down notes every once and a while and taking measurements of Carlos’ body to make sure he wasn’t too underweight. He knew he hadn’t eaten anything in days, but he still wasn’t feeling the signs of it. Maybe that was why he was so cranky? He wasn’t sure, but he just needed everything to friggin stop before he lashed out. Whether he would lash out at others or himself again, he didn’t really know. All he knew was that he was regretting this decision. There was nothing outside for him anymore, not now that he had failed to complete his paper AND not shown up for a test. That life was ruined. But this right now wasn’t any better. He was starting to think that not taking those pills or running from the cops was a bad idea.

“Ok,” Steve said, clicking his pen shut and looking back up at him, “That’s all for now I think. I’ll show you to your room and get you all situated.”

“Ok…” Carlos said wearily, and followed the nurse down the hall. They passed through yet another locked door until they reached a long, dim hallway illuminated only by several safety lights lining the ceiling. It was quiet, but not quiet at all. He knew that this place was occupied. It had all the little squeaks and rustles of life, but just at the softest of levels.

“We have to be quiet,” Steve said, whispering, “Everyone is asleep.”

Carlos nodded, and suddenly began to hate the silent not silent. These where his new people, somewhere behind these doors. The idea of them terrified him. They appeared in his mind as mad monsters. All teeth and nails and fluids. All of them too loud and too close to his face. Carlos shuddered and tried to tell himself that these were stupid ideas, that these were people, but the images lingered.

He had to break the silence.

Despite his general annoyance at Steve’s mere presence, Carlos turned briefly to him, and attempted a smile.

“So…” He began, and choked. Steve threw him a strange look.

“…Yes?” The nurse said.

“Um…Nice…uh, Nice scrubs!” Carlos said, trying not to sound as sarcastic as he felt. Steve just laughed.

“My daughter got them for me. If I don’t wear them once a week she has a fit. It’s a little silly, but, I figure, if they get a laugh, why not right?” Steve explained with a chuckle, and Carlos couldn’t help but smile weakly along with him.

Carlos tried in vain to come up with more words to push out of his mouth, but he found none. He clenched his jaw, trying not to think about the monsters behind those doors. Thankfully, their little trip was about to end, as the nurse stopped next to one of the doors lining the halls. He gave him a quick, empty smile, and unlocked the door. Carlos wasn’t sure how honest he was about locking them in at night now. But, true to his word, the man didn’t re-lock the door at any point.

“Ok, Big guy,” Steve said, and opened the door to a little quaint room, “Welcome to your room for a while,”

Carlos flinched at the odd endearing term that the nurse had used, but moved on quickly from the thought to look around his new room.

Everything inside was some shade of blue it seemed, except for the floor, which was a rather ugly laminate wood flooring pattern. It was simple, but it had all the amenities that he could need. It had two beds, a set of drawers, and a small plastic overhead light. It was a lot cleaner and less cluttered than his apartment that was for sure.

“Two beds?” Carlos asked, a bit troubled by that particular detail.

“Yup, you might get a roommate at some point while you’re here. But, for tonight, you’ve got the room to yourself, so you can live it up a little,” Steve said.

Carlos attempted a ghost of a smile for him, he was royally annoyed by the man’s mere existence right now, but he knew he was trying to be nice. He could at least try to be civil. Steve smiled back at him, seeming to be pleased at his effort, and then suddenly pulled out a bag and thrust it in Carlos’ direction. It was his backpack! Carlos didn’t know when Steve had retrieved it, but he took it gratefully. Greedily, he opened up the bag with a satisfying zip of the zipper and peered inside.

His razor was, obviously, gone, but there were some other things missing that he didn’t really have a good explanation for.

“You took my phone,” Carlos said, a bit distraught.

“We don’t allow personal phones or appliances in the building unless there’s a special circumstance,” Steve said, looking apologetic.

“And you took my shoelaces,” He said, pulling out his naked sneakers from the bag.

“For safety protocol,” Steve said with a shrug.

“How could I even BEGIN to do anythi-“ Carlos began to yell. Steve held up a hand to shush him.

“It’s just the rules. We don’t like to take any chances all right? You’re going to get all of your belongings back as soon as you check out of here. But for now, our rules apply. Got it?” Steve said, giving him a stern look.

Carlos sunk back slightly and let his bag fall next to his bed.

“Got it…” Carlos said and slumped down onto his bead.

“Great!” Steve said jovially and clapped his hands once, ending the matter, “So, tomorrow morning were going to get you up around six am. Ideally we would want you to get more sleep than six hours but, we need to get you on schedule for now. Breakfast is at six thirty so-“

“Wait,” Carlos interjected, “What time is it now?”

“Its…” Steve looked at his watch, “a little after midnight.”

‘ _Oh GOD’_ , Carlos thought. He had been in the hospital for almost five hours and he hadn’t even noticed how long it had been. He had thought it was morning. No, he had been awake at 7:37 pm. PM. And that had been when he had been dragged away. It was PM. It felt like AM. How was he still not getting this? How was he STILL letting time run away from him!? It was already over for him, why was time not going back to normal like it was supposed to? Time should be right by now! He should know! He should kn-

“Carlos?” Steve’s voice shattering his brains racing voice. Carlos sputtered on the bed, gasping, and clutching his chest and hissed at a clenching pain there. He sucked in more air, his head spinning, and came to the realization that he was hyperventilating. Steve spoke again, but Carlos missed it this time. He gasped again, trying to get his breath to come out right and turned his glassy eyes to meet Steve’s.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked.

“Uh…I…I don’t know. My chest…” Carlos said brokenly.

“I think you had a panic attack buddy,” Steve said comfortingly. Carlos cringed a bit at the word ‘buddy’ but tried to focus on his breathing.  

“Just try and relax,” He said again, and Carlos wanted to scream at him that he was, but he could barely breathe to begin with. So, he let it go.

He focused his energy on steadying his internal rhythms, and stuck his head between his knees. Somehow that was helping. He was like that for another fifteen minutes, having to quell two more spikes of anxiety as he came down. The entire time, Steve sat on the bed with him until he finally was breathing like a human being, and his heart wasn’t going to bang out his chest. Carlos really wished Steve would just leave. He knew he meant well, but he didn’t want to be seen like this. Even if the person watching him was a nurse. Steve was nice enough to not say anything until he had calmed down.

“Better?” Steve asked.

“I guess…” Carlos said, sniffing back some snot before it had a chance to run down his face.

“I think it would be a good idea to go to bed,” Steve said, lifting himself off the bed, “Some rest can do a world of good. I could give you a sedative but-“

“I don’t want a sedative,” Carlos said, still breathless.

“Alright…Well, its best that you sleep. There are going to be a few people checking in on you tonight. So don’t be too freaked out if you hear someone come in alright?” Steve said gently.

“Alright,” Carlos said, sinking back a bit more into the bed.

“Wake up is six o’clock sharp alright?” Steve said.

“Got it,” Carlos said with a sigh.

“Good night then,” Steve said before disappearing from the doorway.

A silence followed at the other mans absence, though he could hear dull snoring and murmuring down the halls. Despite all this, the whole building felt empty. _He_ felt empty.

Carlos started sobbing quietly into the pillow as soon as he was sure that the other man wouldn’t be coming back around any time soon. The sheets were scratchy against his sticky eyes as he wept. It didn’t take too terribly long for him to start to drift off. And soon, he fell asleep to echo’s in his mind screaming, **_“What have you gotten yourself into?”_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im super sorry that these are taking so long to get out. I'm trying my best to update once a week, but I've started classes again and its a lot of work. Anyway, this chapter was longer than I expected so I hope it isnt TOO boring. Cecil will be in the next chapter!


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